


The Stone

by Av-ra Kedavra (AstoriaLovegood), Cheese_Smoothie



Series: A Bond Stronger Than Blood [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Mainly angst, set just after crimes of grindelwald, what if grindelwald wanted the blood pact back
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24622228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstoriaLovegood/pseuds/Av-ra%20Kedavra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheese_Smoothie/pseuds/Cheese_Smoothie
Summary: Set just after Crimes of Grindelwald - what would have happened if Grindelwald wanted the blood pact back? Where would that lead?-“What do you want, Gellert?”“I’ve told you already, I want the blood pact.”“And I’ve told you, you aren’t going to get the dastardly thing. And you know that. So why are you here?”“Would you believe me if I said I missed you?”“No.”-
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Series: A Bond Stronger Than Blood [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713277
Comments: 14
Kudos: 139





	1. It's never too late to free yourself

_ 20 March, 1927, Nurmengard Castle _

Gellert Grindelwald was sick of feeling sorry for himself. He had just come out of the room where Credence Barebone was staying, after gifting him a wand and feeding him lies – all so Gellert could finally tear down his only equal without breaking the promise of the blood pact. He was, after all, only planting the seeds of Albus' destruction, what Credence chose to do with those seeds couldn't be blamed on himself. Except the one flaw with this plan was that Gellert knew that he would always be at fault for whatever happened to Albus. He mindlessly reached for the pocket at his heart, wanting to be reassured, but his hand grasped at nothing. He was forcibly reminded that the blood pact was gone - his only link to Albus. 

He ran his hand through his hair in frustration as he walked through the corridors of Nurmengard, all he had done was for Albus. He had begun to carry out their vision - wizards ruling the muggles, the  _ non magiques _ , but deep down he knew that he wasn't going to get Albus back if he continued like this. He was committed to The Greater Good of course, but he could be allowed pleasures on the side. And Albus certainly was a pleasure, his only equal, both intellectually and magically. He might have hundreds, even thousands of supporters, but none of them meant as much to him as Albus did. As once again, his hand reached for the blood pact that he knew wasn't there, he had an idea. He needed that blood pact back - not just to keep Albus from attacking him - but as a means to see him again. 

Gellert was no fool, he knew that Albus had it, and Albus was at Hogwarts. And Hogwarts had students, one of which he had locked up in the distant cells in the bowel of the castle because his family had been fighting against his cause. He knew there was a reason he hadn't allowed the boy to be killed along with his family, not only because Albus would never forgive him (although he suspected he wasn't going to be forgiven anyway for certain other events), but because the boy could prove himself useful. He smiled, and changed his direction, heading for the cells.

_ 20 March, 1927, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

"Would he like a cup of tea?" Albus Dumbledore asked the small niffler that hid in Newt's coat pocket. 

Newt smiled softly, the loss of the previous night still weighing heavily on his shoulders. 

"He'll have some milk. Hide the teaspoons," he added hastily on the end, and Dumbledore cracked a small grin. 

His office was filled with small trinkets and oddities, least of which the giant magical telescope, almost leaning out of the window on the right. Dumbledore waved a hand absently and a cushy armchair made its way up to his desk. Dumbledore disappeared up the spiral staircase, and Newt had to struggle with the niffler, who was attempting to stuff a large gold ring into its pouch. Dumbledore returned, carrying multiple large pieces of cloth, a teapot and cups trailing magically behind him. Newt noticed, as he covered up the hundreds of shiny things in his office with cloth, that he held the small blood pact in the same place Grindelwald had. His left breast pocket. 

"So Newt, did I hear something about a Zouwu?"

"News travels fast. He is happily roaming free now. They were born to run." 

The teapot poured them each a cup of tea, and a cup filled with warm milk set itself down on the desk, and Newt released his hold of the niffler. They both watched with shared amusement as it happily slurped the creamy white drink. 

"What were the wrist cuffs for?"

"Oh, Travers seems to think me in quite the same boat as Gell- Grindelwald," he caught his mistake, admonishing himself for the slip of tongue.

"I was never quite a supporter of him. I can’t imagine you were either."

"Don't let him catch you saying that," Albus rolled his eyes. 

They sat in companionable silence, for a long stretch, not really wanting to speak of the events in Paris. The only sound in the room was of the happy niffler drinking it's milk, and the irregular ticking of an old grandfather clock in the corner.

"Why would you make a blood pact?" Newt broke the silence, his voice a mix of exhausted and exasperated.

"I quite foolishly believed his tale, the way he used to talk about it, it was hard not too." He looked out the window wistfully.

A voice came from behind the door, interrupting Albus from his distracting nostalgia. "Excuse me professor?"

"I must be going anyway," Newt rose and grabbed the niffler, exiting out the door around a strawberry blond boy who looked to be around sixteen.

"Farewell Newt," Albus called after his past student, taking a sip of tea from his now-cold cup.

"Professor, I was hoping to speak to you," the young wizard came into the room and sat down in Newt's previously vacated seat.

"Please, do come in." Albus bit back a chuckle. "What is it that you were here for?" 

"I wanted to inform you of my leave of absence being thankfully over now."

"I have to admit, I was curious as to where exactly you had gone off to, Mr Young." 

The boy's lips curved into a delighted smile.

"But while I'm here," the young man started, "I wanted to inquire about a... somewhat controversial topic.”

Albus turned around to face the student fully, crossing his ankles and resting his elbows atop his desk. He studied their bleak expression and raised a brow.

“If you’re seeking the content of intellectual banter I suggest you go find -”

“-No sir,” the boy interrupted, “it’s a simple question and I only need a quick answer.”

“Is that so…” Albus murmured, “well then… what is it you wanted to ask?”

“How does one create a horcrux?”

Albus’ eyes widened slightly before he recovered his composure. 

“That kind of dark magic is not appropriate for any wizard, let alone a student like yourself,” he muttered gravely, casting a stern look at the young man who only remained unfazed by the subtle confrontation. 

Instead, he smirked, “How about I ask you a question you can answer, professor.”

The young man’s attitude was peculiar… if not a little unsettling. He sat with one leg hooked over the other and Albus was starting to feel a sense of familiarity with his character.

“Go ahead,” Albus responded, leaning back into his chair, smiling when he realised what was going on.

“How does one form a blood pact?” Before Albus could answer, the boy spoke again. “How can I destroy one?”

Albus froze, contemplating his next move before shaking his head with a small smile. “Why? Having second thoughts are we?”

"Never," the wizard shook his head, "but I suspect that you are." 

Albus leaned back in his seat, observing the seemingly young boy before him. "Get rid of the disguise."

Eyes were rolled. "It's polyjuice, you'll just have to wait," Gellert smirked, suggesting that he knew full well that it was a flimsy excuse. 

Albus picked up his wand. Pointing it at the imposter, he lifted the disguise, revealing the face that tormented him from the mirror of Erised. Using Gellert’s distraction at just having had a wand pointed at his face, he placed a glamour over the pendant he had in his pocket – disguising it as a pocket watch. 

"Why are you here?" Albus asked, putting his wand away. 

"Why are you having tea with a former student?" 

Albus smiled, "Ah yes, 'What makes Albus Dumbledore so fond of you'. I suspected you were jealous when Newt told me what you asked, but now I see it clearly for myself."

Gellert spluttered, "I'm not jealous! I'm just asking a question!"

"Just like how I asked why you're here. You have a lot of nerve, but I suppose you always had that. You can't just run away after my sister is killed and not contact me for decades, and then show up when you want the blood pact back." Albus made sure to keep his voice level but didn't bother disguising the venom in his words. 

Gellert’s eyes softened. "I'm going to ignore you asking why I'm here when you clearly already know, and I ran away because I knew you didn't want to see me right then. I ran away to help you mourn easier."

The magic in the air crackled around Albus, "Don't give me that bullshit."

Gellert felt the full force of Albus’ magic pressing at his mental barriers, as well as keeping a tight hold on his throat. 

“You told me to leave. I left,” said Grindelwald. 

Albus sighed, his magic dissipating from around him. The events of that night, Gellert’s disappearance… it broke his heart. The magical teapot poured a cup of tea for Gellert, who immediately picked it up and took a sip, humming softly. Albus studied Gellert, his short spiky white-blond hair, dark coat and green vest. 

“You have any biscuits?” Gellert questioned and Albus wearily opened a desk drawer to pull out a packet of scotch fingers. 

“I always liked jammie dodgers best,” he commented, taking it and breaking it perfectly in half. 

“What do you want, Gellert?” 

“I’ve told you already, I want the blood pact.” 

“And I’ve told you, you aren’t going to get the dastardly thing. And you know that. So why are you here?”

“Would you believe me if I said I missed you?”

“No.”

“Of course,” Gellert dipped his scotch finger for a second in the tea and took a bite. A few crumbs landed on the edge of his moustache. 

“What prompted you to grow that-“ Gellert waved his fingers condescendingly at Albus’ face “monstrosity.” 

“I’d like to inquire the same about the infernal thing on your lip.”

“You love my moustache. Admit it,” Grindelwald leaned forwards in his seat, resting his elbows on the table. 

Albus narrowed his eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you really here?”

“I wanted to determine your threat level to me and my cause.” 

“I think you’ve determined enough already. I haven’t handed you in yet have I?“ 

“No, but you were always too empathetic.” 

Gellert took the last sip from his tea and stood up, whipping his coattail behind him, and leaving out the door. Albus was left staring at his office door, a small mix of confused and concerned.


	2. Regret is my constant companion

The sun was setting as the chatter and footsteps of students died down as they retreated to their dorms. Albus walked down the corridor to his office, preparing to collect his things and turn in for the day. His thoughts were clouded by the surprise encounter earlier today, repressing his concerns during his classes. Albus stopped in front of his desk, sighing as he started to organise the numerous papers scattered across its surface. A pair of footsteps echoed from down the hallway as Albus was preparing to leave. When he turned to look an envelope appeared in front of his face, levitating in the air. He recognised the unique seal and quickly noticed the envelope and himself were in full view of the oncoming figure. Albus slammed the door closed just as his eyes locked with the individual who had just rounded the corner – it was Minerva. Realising she was coming this way, he hastened to shove the letter in his briefcase, closing it just in time as she knocked on the door.

“Come in!” he responded, tidying himself up as he pulled his briefcase off the table.

“Is everything okay, Professor?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Oh McGonagall,” he sighed, “just call me Albus, we’ve worked together for a while now I’d consider us friends – don’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” she muttered with a small smile, “you called me McGonagall.”

Albus chuckled, “You’re quite right, as usual. My apologies, Minerva.”

“Same to you, Albus,” she responded before going quiet in thought.

“Back to why I came looking for you, the extensive absence of a particular student has me worried.”

“Do you mean Mr Young?” Minerva nodded, her concern written clearly across her face. “I… received word from his parents,” Albus started, racking his brain for excuses, “he’s transferring to another school.”

The professor looked confused, “But I wasn’t informed -”

Albus reached to pat Minerva’s shoulder with a small smile.

“Don’t worry about it, I have it under control.”

She sighed, “If you say so. Well, I’ll be off now, don’t stay up too late Albus.”

“You too, Minerva. Have a good evening.”

With a small nod, she disappeared down the corridor. Taking a deep breath, guilt was eating up his inside as he realised what he’d done. He had lied to a dear friend of his just to protect Gell- Grindelwald. Albus slapped his forehead with his hand and growled under his breath at his foolishness. 

•••

The warmth of his bed could only fill the void in his heart temporarily as Albus stared blankly at the ceiling. It was way too early to get up – classes started in four hours. His thoughts were suffocating him as he glanced at the unopened envelope that laid on his bedside table, taunting him. The urge to tear it open and read the contents of the letter was overwhelming. Every fibre of his being knew what temptations lurked within. Yet reason prevented him from opening it - he could quite easily fall into old patterns with Gellert, and that wasn’t good for anyone. Albus eventually gave into temptation, using wandless magic to pry the envelope open. He took a deep breath before unfolding the fragile piece of paper and reading the elegantly familier handwriting that decorated it.

_ ‘11 PM, behind Borgin and Burkes’ _

The note was signed with the symbol of the Hallows, but even without it, it was pretty obvious who it was from. He  _ incendio’d _ the note, letting the ashes fall back onto the bed. Would he even go? For all he knew, it could be an ambush by Grindelwald’s acolytes, the blood pact wouldn't protect him then. But then again, Gellert had seemed a little remorseful the previous day, Grindelwald had changed since that summer. Even if he were being sincere, Gellert had killed people and incited violence, and was seeking to start yet another war. He played with the blood pact between his fingers – he had worn it as a necklace ever since Gellert had left yesterday. Albus sighed. The risk was too great, but so was the temptation. Seeing Gellert had brought back so many memories, he could practically taste the homemade Jammie Dodgers. 

Albus got dressed quickly, heading to the abandoned classroom that held the Mirror of Erised. It was too early to run into anyone, so he went undisturbed. Once again, he saw himself and Gellert, who was smiling, his face open and carefree - which had almost never happened in real life. Mirror Gellert grabbed hold of his hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Albus could almost feel it, he desperately wished he could go back to the days where he could have a picnic with Gellert and eat strawberries. Twas’ was not that simple, but the least he could do was hear him out, right? He could go and meet Gellert, with protective enchantments in place, and he would be on high alert the whole time. But for now, he had classes to teach.

•••

Albus leaned back against his desk and straightened his tie a little, looking out into the small class. 

“Professor Dumbledore?” 

The rest of the class noise dulled down at the words. People looked up from their tables, where they were attempting to turn beetles into bottles. 

“I was wondering if you could tell us about Grindelwald.”

“That’s a very broad question, O’Hary,” Albus sighed. 

He just couldn’t get a moment away from Gellerts influence. 

“I mean, I’ve heard, as I’m sure we have all, that you are the only person in Britain, or even wider Europe that can defeat him.” The student continued, looking at him hopefully.

There were murmurs and nods of assent amongst his fourth-year crowd. 

“I’ve heard that too.” He answered, ambiguously. 

“But don’t you want to help them stop him?” 

Albus’ hand crept to the pact hanging around his neck. Did he want to stop Gellert? That was a dangerous question, with a potentially dangerous answer. It should have been a simple ‘yes I do want to stop him.’ But instead, the question surfaced a myriad of other questions and other emotions. Emotions that he shouldn’t be clinging to after all these years. 

“Don’t you want the glory of capturing him? And they say you could stop him, so why are you here in this school?” The student continued on.

“Not everything is about glory or fame, O’Hary,” Albus avoided his earlier question. 

“You say they’re the cowards, but really, who do you see hiding in this school? You could be doing more important things!”

Albus smiled slightly at the boy’s nerve. 

“I’d like to think that educating the next generation of witches and wizards in Britain would be pretty high on the list of important things.”

The class laughed at that and the kid rolled his eyes and scoffed frustratedly. The woes of the teenage years. As the bell rang for the end of the class, and the students packed up, the kid came up to him. 

“It’s not going to matter, our education, if we’re suppressed by Grindelwald, or if the world descends further into this chaos by the time we are adults.” 

“Wise words for one so young,” Albus smiled softly. “Run along now wouldn’t want to leave Miss Carlisle waiting would we?” Albus gave a small wink and the boy blushed, hurrying out of the classroom. 

•••

As the clock struck 10:59, Albus made his way into Hogsmeade, before apparating straight into Knockturn Alley. The immediate lack of cleanliness hit him and he wrinkled his nose. The walk to Borgin and Burke’s was short, he was still a minute early but as he approached, he saw a tall figure apparate in front of him. His blond hair was a stark contrast to the bleak browns and greys of the street. As Albus approached him, Gellert held out an arm to him. 

“Do you expect me to take your arm? You could literally apparate me anywhere!” 

“I know you’ll take my arm. You trust me.” 

Albus wasn’t sure how to, or if he even could deny that. So he took Gellert’s arm. Albus was surprised to find that the scenery did not change, raising a brow at the blond man who smiled and shrugged. The two hooked arms and started strolling down the dark alley before Gellert raised his wand to light the lamps that lined the street, a dim glow flooding the shadows.

“I see you went and got yourself a new toy,” Albus smirked as Gellert twirled the wand in his other hand.

He scoffed, “I did keep my word you know. I didn’t kill the man. Instead, I snuck into his room to steal the wand and stunned him before I escaped through his window.”

He paused, bending down to slip the wand in his boot. Albus smiled. Gellert might have changed but his habits stayed the same. 

“I’ve had it for a while now,” Gellert continued before lowering his voice, “I acquired it a few months after Ariana died.”

The scene replayed in Albus’ head and all the emotions he had finally let go of resurfaced. 

“You remember her name?” he whispered, his grip on Gellert’s arm tightening.

Noticing Albus’ distress, Gellert caressed his arm, the one that was tightly interlinked with his. Albus found the action surprisingly soothing, sighing before shaking out of the blond’s embrace. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered apathetically, walking in front of Gellert.

Albus was taken aback by a sudden clutch on his wrist.

“No, you’re not,” Gellert murmured gravely, “have you given yourself time to properly grieve? Or have you been bottling up your emotions?”

Albus snarled at the accusation, tearing his wrist out of Gellert’s hand. 

“This isn’t about me!” he hissed, “it’s about you. What are you doing Gellert? How many lives will it take for you to realise what you’re doing is wrong?!”

“Albus,” Gellert rumbled, “don’t lash out at me. Talk to me.”

“No,” he snapped, "Not anymore. Tell me why you asked me to meet you here.”

“The same reason you agreed to come.”

"And why did I agree to come?" 

Gellert sighed and kept his arm outstretched, reaching for Albus. 

"Do I really need to say it?"

Albus glanced down at his arm, "Yes, you do. I would dearly like to know what exactly you think is happening."

"I know that you haven't gotten past Ariana's death, that you don't accept that I'm sincerely sorry about that entire night – that you'll never believe that losing you was the worst thing that happened to me and that I lo- Well, I think it's pretty obvious." 

Gellert reached out further for Albus' hand, who let Gellert take it, and pull Albus in. 

"I'm truly sorry about the fight, and Ariana. It was never my intention to make any of that happen. And I'm so sorry I drove you away from me when all I wanted was you. When all I want is you. I miss you. Join my side. We can rule together, if we combine our strength, we will win. And we will be together." He looked directly into Albus' eyes, bringing a hand up to hold his cheek, Albus softly leaning into the touch.

"Gellert... it's risky enough that I'm here. If the ministry suspects anything they'll restrict my magic again."

"What? Restrict your magic? Again? Who did it to you? I'll rip them apart, I'll make them pay. No one is allowed to lay a goddamn finger on you, you're mine," Gellert hissed out, shocked at the news. 

He pulled Albus into a rough embrace.

"No, you won't. You can't kill anyone else, Gellert.."

"At least give me the name of the person who did it to you."

"No," Albus whispered, stepping back out of the embrace, "Don't kill anyone for me, promise me."

Gellert gave a slow nod, "I promise."

The two stood in silence for a moment before Albus sighed and turned to leave.

"I miss you too..." he murmured, "Don't contact me again unless I contact you first." 

And with a loud crack, Albus disappeared into the night air, leaving Gellert behind – still shocked that the ministry had the nerve to restrict Albus' magic. Well, it was time for a quick trip into the ministry of magic.


	3. I would never see you harmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not a lot of ship but possessive grindelwald which is always fun

The British Ministry of Magic had always been full of pretentious snobs. Men and women strutted around in their flashy robes, the shiny green and purple tiled walls almost blinding. A young, brunette German ambassador, whose badge read 'Department for International Magical Cooperation' rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the floo. Brushing off his navy robes, he made his way to the registration panel. A short dark-haired witch with a large afro stared him up and down. 

"Name and registration please."

The man in navy held up a card and it unfolded to reveal his credentials. It read, 'Schulz, Gerhard. German Dept. Int. Cooperation.'

She read the small writing, and apparently pleased with the state of his identity card said, "What is your business in the Ministry today, Mr Schulz?"

The young man replied in heavily accented English, "I have an appointment with Mr Travers, regarding the Paris incident."

"Pardon?" 

"I have an appointment with Travers," he repeated slowly and the witch stared at him plainly. 

She considered the appointment book on her desk before pointing to the elevators, "Level two, the corridor on the left, his office is right at the end."

"Thank you, madame." 

He managed to catch the next elevator down to the second floor. A grimy looking house-elf called the second floor and the safety gate creaked as it slid open. Gerhard let himself out and made his way down the fairly silent carpeted corridor until he reached the door on the end. A shiny plaque read the name 'Torquil Travers, Head of Dept. Magical Law Enforcement.'

As he reached up to knock, the door swung wide open, and Mr Schulz had a clear view of the man sitting at his desk. 

"Come in and do close the door behind you, the vacuums make quite the racket."

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr Travers."

The reply took some time as Travers had to interpret his heavy accent. 

"I do apologise for the state of my office," he was quite correct with his apology, the German thought, as the room was very messy. 

Papers were strewn in every direction, the bookshelves on the verge of rejecting their books, and the paintings of previous heads of the department, all vacant. 

"I've had quite the week." Gerhard looked at him expectantly, the silence stretching until Travers continued. "We've had an inconceivable number of defectors in the department. Aurors going missing left right and centre. It has been a right mess as of late. But I digress, what was your business here today?"

"With all this madness recently, it must have slipped your mind, I'm here to speak to the man responsible for putting monitors on my Albus."

The man across from him raised a brow.

“Could you be referring to… Albus Dumbledore?” he hesitantly asked.

Gerhard smirked – Travers’ dazed expression was ludicrous. 

“You know,” the German rumbled, taking a step forward and towering over Travers, “I’ve never admired the likes of you.”

The man opened his mouth to argue but Gerhard silencio’d him with a flick of his wrist. Travers’ eyes widened, gasping to make sounds for help as the German’s disguise rippled away to reveal heterochromatic eyes and striking blond hair.

“Ah, back to myself at last,” Gellert sighed, casting the incarcerous spell on Travers when he sensed a sudden move. 

“The Ministry makes cowards of us all,” he continued, directing his attention away from Travers as he investigated the office. 

“The Statute of Secrecy… an expired concept, outdated,” Gellert mumbled, making his way behind Travers’ desk and combing through piles of papers before his eyes were drawn to the few scattered on his desk.

Looking closer, he noticed there was a list of the names of aurors just carelessly teetering off the edge. 

He picked it up, gently folded the paper into his pocket and grinned, “I’ll be taking this.”

Suddenly, Gellert heard scuffling on the floor and leaned over to see Travers trying to grab his wand from atop the corner of his desk. The blond chuckled at the sight and accio’d the wand instead.

“My, my, my,” Gellert drawled, “the craftsmanship of this wand is… somewhat impressive.”

Fear masked the man’s face as he trembled on the floor, eyes darting around the room in desperation. Gellert raised a brow.

“Why so afraid? I’m not going to kill you,” he shrugged, “but…”

Gellert twirled Traver’s wand in his hand, a sly grin flashed across his face. He placed one hand on each end of the wand and wrenched inwards, snapping the instrument in half in one clean break. Analyzing the wand’s remains, he glanced at Travers who was faring slightly better knowing he wasn’t going to die.

“Flimsy and brittle, much like yourself,” he sneered, “just as I expected.”

Gellert set the two halves of the wand on the desk. He turned back to Travers, who was still trembling with fear. 

"How do you like it now that your magic has been restricted? You’re certainly not powerful enough for endless magic, and any replacement wand will never be the same," Gellert reached towards Travers’ and grabbed his hand in a firm grip, almost crushing Travers’ fingers. 

When he released it, he smirked at his handiwork, a black hallows symbol taking up Travers' entire palm.

"It's permanent. And it doesn't like to be covered up,” Gellert smiled at Travers look of horror and stood back. 

"Now, I can't leave you with memories of this – you might go after my Albus." 

Gellert held his wand up to Travers’ face, "Obliviate." 

Travers collapsed on the floor, and smirking at his handiwork, he cast the glamour back over himself for his disguise and burned a hallows mark on the outside of Travers' office door for good measure. 

He turned and left, walking past all the oblivious ministry workers, and going back up to the surface of London, and apparating back to Nurmengard.

•••

Travers awoke on the floor of his office with a splitting headache. For a few moments, he kept his eyes closed, welcoming the break from the stress of the week. Grindelwald’s return, short-lived capture and escape, was taking a toll on the whole wizarding world. Travers had always had grand schemes. A desire to be the minister. He was never the most gifted student at Hogwarts, but he had always prided himself on his ability to adapt situations to suit his needs. One might title that manipulation, and in that regard, Travers had to reluctantly admit, he was quite similar to the man who he considered his greatest enemy. 

He cracked open his eyes, and everything spun around him. The bright light from a large window to the left was blinding, and Travers was forced to squint. As he slowly rose to his desk and sat down he racked his memory for the reason he was passed out on the floor. As he turned up completely blank, he cursed. Blinking a few times to focus his eyes, he searched his desk for any signs of Firewhiskey, his poison of choice, but to no avail. 

He reached a hand up to rub his eyes, temples throbbing from his migraine. As he lowered his hand, he spotted a dark patch spanning the width of his palm. He closed his eyes for a second. It couldn’t be... Gellert Grindelwald’s symbol lay in a swirling black smoke in centre place on his palm. Travers rubbed his hand against his robe, then rubbed his eyes with his fist, before taking a look at his hand again. He wasn’t imagining it. 

Torquil Travers sat with his palm facing up atop a pile of reports on his desk. He sat staring at the symbol of the exact thing he’d sworn to destroy when he joined the Ministry. He sat, jaw hanging loose, as his whole world disintegrated around him.


	4. So needy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't forgotten about this, don't worry! All 9 chapters shall be revealed in time.

Hogwarts was bustling, as usual, young wizards dashing around right and left as students hurried to their classes. Albus sighed as he prepared to leave the classroom, reminiscing his adolescent years when he had nothing to worry about. He had thought he had everything planned out, yet there was always something that drastically changed his plans. First his mother’s death then his sister’s only a few months after. Now, the blood pact and his stupid emotions were preventing him from defeating Grindelwald, something the world seemed to so desperately need. Albus was walking down a corridor, so deep in thought that he almost bumped into an oncoming figure. 

“My apologies -” Albus hastily spluttered, looking up to notice a familiar face.

“Minerva?”

“Albus!” she exclaimed before chuckling, “I’m sorry did I startle you? You did seem preoccupied.”

“Ah yes, I… wasn’t focusing on where I was headed.”

“Indeed, I always seem to catch you at inconvenient times it seems,” she murmured, “while you are here though, have you seen today’s newspaper?”

Albus raised a brow, “No I have not.”

“I suggest you have a read,” she hummed, a copy of today’s paper appearing in Albus’ hand with the flick of her wand. 

The sound of Minvera’s shoes on the stone floor echoed down the hallway as Albus unrolled the newspaper. Immediately his attention was drawn to the headline that was printed in bold.

**_Grindelwald breaks into the Ministry! Nowhere is safe!_ **

Albus rolled his eyes. The Ministry loves to exaggerate any kind of intrusion to their headquarters. “Nowhere is safe”, _as if_. Wait a second… Albus glanced back over the first word.

_ Grindelwald...  _ Albus immediately read the article.

Albus smiled, chuckling softly as he facepalmed at the thought of Gellert avenging him by picking a fight with the Ministry.

“He and his silver tongue,” Albus muttered to himself as he headed back to his personal quarters.

•••

The lamp in his room dimmed as Albus started getting ready for bed after a last look at a few papers. His eyes hovered over his quill and paper, hesitant to pick them up. Albus ran a hand through his hair and sighed, returning to his chair as he began to write.

•••

Gellert was reading the hilarious prophet article about himself, when a letter appeared in front of him. He immediately put the newspaper down and picked up the letter - there was only one person who it could possibly be from. He pried the seal open and unfolded the parchment within the envelope. 

_ Gellert, _

_ I told you not to hurt anybody, but you go ahead and bully the head auror? You're just waiting to get caught, don't risk it for me. You're an idiot. _

Technically, that was wrong, Albus had asked him not to kill anyone, he hadn't said anything about hurting. And Albus didn't seem particularly upset about it, if he hadn't known better he would have thought Albus was almost glad that Gellert had sought revenge. AND since Albus had told him not to contact him unless Albus did it first, he could interpret this as 'permission' to keep communicating. Gellert smirked. 

Albus was in his office, writing out lesson plans at the end of the day when another letter appeared on his desk. Albus sighed, and tore it open, reading the words inside. 

_ Albus,  _

_ You told me not to kill anyone, not hurt them. I didn't go against you at all, and I suspect you know that. You should be thanking me, he won't bother you again. Have you thought about my offer?  _

_ Yours, Gellert. _

•••

Queenie Goldstein had just brought him a steaming mug of cocoa. Gellert had been sitting by the fire in his personal quarters, staring out into the distant mountain landscape of Austria, and the adorable witch had brought him cocoa. She had sat down on another armchair, crossed her legs, and asked why he was stressing over Albus. 

"I can tell that you're anxious. Usually you've got perfect mental shields, which is a relief because it's quite draining listening to so many people at once, but you aren't holding up quite so well tonight. Is it about the Ministry?" Of course, the American didn't know why he broke into the ministry personally, but she had heard the news that morning, but he wasn't stressed about that. Gellert had sent Albus a reply two hours ago, and he still hadn't replied. 

"Ah, boy troubles." She said gently. It was a surprise to Gellert that she held no prejudices against his preferences. The wizarding world had been quite influenced in recent years by muggle homophobia. He supposed Queenie was very innocent, like Albus had been when they first met. "Aw your Albus seems very sweet Honey." Gellert let a small smile fall upon his lips, which he subsequently tried to hide in the mug of cocoa. A brilliant smile lit Queenie's features. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked quietly, and Gellert frowned. He didn’t really. He had hoped Albus would join him. But in the event that he didn’t… he couldn't think about that series of events. Queenie nodded slowly. “How about chess then?”   
  
“My dear, that would be unfair, you can read my mind.” But Gellert summoned the board and pieces anyway. He did suppose he was an excellent player.    
  
“I’ve never been too good at chess myself, but the pieces always love me.” True to her word, when she chose the white pieces, the black ones scowled at being left with Gellert, and spent the rest of the game arguing with his decisions. Queenie managed to keep up for much longer than he expected, but he did, as always, end up winning.    
  
“Thank you for the cocoa and the game. Your company will always be welcome.”   
  
“It must be nice to talk to someone nice for once, I’ve only ever seen you talk to Vinda.” she grinned, then frowned and paused in thought for a moment, “Vinda is mean.” 

Gellert smiled at her childish upset as she left his room, in much higher spirits than he had been, which only improved when a letter appeared in front of his eyes. Immediately he snatched the envelope out of the air and gently ripped it open. He unfolded the letter and read it’s contents.

_ Gellert, _

_ After much consideration, I have decided I will accept your offer. Meet me behind Zonko’s on the hour. _

_ Albus. _

The letter was short and succinct. Gellert sighed. He couldn’t help but admit he was expecting something more. 

•••

Albus paced around in his room, weighing the risk versus reward. His heart dropped after sending the letter and he fought the temptation to rip it up. It was too late to turn back anyway.

“It’s for the better,” he whispered to himself harshly, fingers clutching tightly to his hair. 

Taking on Gellert was not an option, at least, not now. In that case, he would have to do it the long way – starting with earning his trust. Although to be honest, that was never too much of a problem, rather Albus expressed his lack of trust in Gellert quite loud and clear. He found it painful to imagine how his whole scheme would turn out, but Albus knew it was time to step up. The time for indecision was over. He took action now. 

“Conscience does make cowards of us all,” he mumbled, quoting Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’.

Glancing at the clock, Albus realised there was a few minutes before the designated time he had arranged with Gellert. Taking one last look at himself in the mirror, Albus set out on his walk to Hogsmeade.

•••

The wind was mildly chilly as Albus approached their meeting place. Once again, as soon as the clock struck 11, a blond figure apparated in front of him.

“We meet again,” the man drawled, revealing his face as he took a step forward out of the shadows.

“Indeed,” Albus muttered, a mixture of disconcerting emotions swirling in his gut.

"So you've decided to join me then?" Gellert asked him. 

Albus ignored his guilt, and nodded. "Naturally, I have conditions if I'm going to work with you." 

Gellert offered his hand out to Albus, who took it, Gellert interlacing their fingers together. 

"Together we will tear down their silly laws, and rebuild the world." Gellert pulled Albus into his arms, still holding his hand. "Tell me your conditions,  _ leiblich _ "

"No murder, no torture, and you will listen to my opinion."

Gellert let go of Albus' hand, reaching up to run his hand through Albus' hair. He leaned into the touch, almost out of a long forgotten habit. 

"Of course I will listen to you, but surely you understand that sometimes a little push is... necessary to achieve my goals."

"If you still think that, then I can't join you. Those are my terms."

Gellerts hand paused in its movements in Albus' hair. "I'll think about it."

"I thought you wanted me to join you, Gellert." 

"And I thought you wanted to join. It appears we've come to a crossroads,  _ leiblich _ ." Gellert pressed a kiss to Albus' cheek. "Until we meet again, my dear." Gellert stepped back from Albus, disappearing with a soft crack.

•••   
  


“My Lord,” Vinda Rosier addressed Gellert as he sat down by the fireplace in their newly acquired Fortress in Norway. Gellert turned to face her, and she bowed her head in respect. He made a motion for her to continue, and she spoke, “your Acolytes have been preparing the Fortress for the event tomorrow.”   
  
“Thank you Vinda. Is that all?” When she nodded, he turned back to staring into the fire. Gellert found that his best speeches came improvised, so other than the general idea of what he would be discussing, he hadn’t prepared a speech. 

He knew the risks of holding a rally so soon after the Paris one, but he also knew the reward. The entire wizarding world was hooked by his words, eagerly awaiting his next move. He had recently gained control of the Akershus Fortress, and it was the perfect place to hold a soiree in attraction of more devoted followers. 

The most disappointing thing, he pondered, was that Albus would not be there to share in his spotlight, to speak with him of their cause. He was troubled that he and Albus would not find agreement at their next meeting. What would he do if Albus rejected his offer to stand together? The other alternative was… Gellert didn’t usually lie to himself, but this dreadful thought was not something he should be thinking about before tomorrow’s event. He needed to be in clear mind for his cause.    
  
“Queenie?” He spoke into the air and seconds later he heard a knock on the door.    
  
“An elf told me you wished to speak to me?” At his brief nod, she spoke again, “I ain’t never been this cold in my whole entire life!”    
  
Gellert looked up from the fire to see that she was wearing two woolen coats, a grey beanie and matching scarf. Her hands were stuffed deep into her pockets and she looked to be hiding in her scarf. “Come sit, the fire will warm you up.” There was a long silence, but Queenie seemed to realise that he wasn’t going to speak again, so he was appreciative that she did it for him.   
  
“I know New York gets cold like this, but I’ve always been more susceptible to cold weather. Teenie always teases me ‘bout it.” She was leaning forward almost into the fireplace at that point.   
  
“Why haven’t you cast a warming charm on yourself?”   
  
“MCUSA rules, if we were going ‘round in winter without a coat on, the no-maj’s would surely suspect something. I never learnt one.” Gellert sighed. The American’s took the Statute of Secrecy to such a high level, he wasn’t sure how the magical population hadn’t fought back yet. Gellert cast a warming charm on her and she shivered at the sudden temperature change. “I’m very grateful Mr Grindelwald, sir.”   
  
“It’s an easy spell, one you should know. It’s blasphemy that the magical government in America has outlawed something so small just because of the  _ non-magique _ . (He had adopted the French name, it sounded almost poetic to him.)   
  
“Now I’m not freezing myself into an early grave, would you like a cocoa?” She asked kindly.   
  
“Thank you Miss Goldstein, I would.” 

She never failed to cheer anyone up.

•••

If Albus thought being pressured to fight Gellert was tough, knowing these good moments together won’t last forever was far worse. For once he was feeling different – better. Being with Gellert made him feel better, be better. Of course, he had become good friends with Minerva but the connection was not the same. No one alive was going to come close to sharing a bond with him as profound as his and Gellert. Albus sighed at this realisation, wondering whether he was ever going to find true happiness if he was destined to fight the one who brought him that beautiful emotion. It didn’t matter if he went against the blood pact or not – the world expected him to end their suffering and challenge Grindelwald as his only equal. He placed his quill down as he finished marking the last pile of papers that he had planned to finish within the last hour. The warm yet fading glow from the afternoon sun thawed his bitter thoughts as he lounged in his chair. 

‘The weather is nice,’ Albus thought to himself with a smile, ‘I should go out for a walk and enjoy the outdoors instead of moping around in my office.’

Changing into a more comfortable yet still rather formal attire, Albus grabbed his fedora and locked his office behind him. The school day wasn’t over yet, seeing as students were still bustling to and fro. Lucky for him it was his day off. Greeting a few students on the way, he finally made it out of the Hogwarts’ huge oak entrance doors. The wind was chilly but refreshing and Albus was glad he had brought along a coat. The walk to Hogsmead was brisk but Albus enjoyed admiring the nature around the path. Strolling down the main street, he debated which stores to visit before a gut instinct drew his attention to a couple of figures lurking in the shadows nearby. They were dressed like any other wizard and they weren’t doing anything suspicious so Albus was confused at his reaction, yet he was one to trust his gut. He slowed down to a stop in front of a store, pretending to have focused on a few products on display behind the window. Instead, he was paying close attention to the individuals and listening in to their conversation. 

“___ ___ ____ Grindelwald __ _______ _ ______ __ Oslo __ _______ tonight.”

Albus grumbled under his breath. He was unable to comprehend the whole sentence, but it was obvious he had caught the key points. Grindelwald, and Oslo. 

“Ah,” Albus sighed with a soft chuckle, “so that’s where you’re hiding.”

•••

Albus stood in his private chambers, smoothing out the dark woollen jacket that he was going to wear. He had decided to try and blend in with the crowd - he knew there was going to be a rally, and Albus was intent on attending. Almost as an afterthought, he pulled the blood pact out of his pocket and fitted it around his neck. He placed a charm over himself; one that would make people's eyes slide over him and not give him a second thought. He was ready to go to Oslo. He knew of Gellert dramatic flair and had found the perfect place for him to apparate to - an alley just outside of a fortress that he had seen last time he was in Norway. 

He gripped his wand in his hand, and apparated, appearing in the designated alley. He cast a disillusionment charm over himself before beginning the short walk to the fortress. It was surrounded by an almost invisible gleam of magic, proving to him that this was indeed where Gellert was holding his rally. He cautiously edged around it, making his way somewhere he could view the entrance. He saw an unassuming guard outside the door, and appearing figures inside the doorway. It seems that the people waiting to get in were using cloaking spells of some sort, and entering the door would wash them all away. He watched a few more moments, noticing that all the people seemed to be dressed up for a masquerade. Shit. Albus was going to have to find a different outfit without using magic and somehow get inside. Going back to Hogwarts was out of the question - Albus could apparate out of the castle, but not inside (he had convinced the headmaster to let him change the wording a little bit). He thought intently of Madam Malkin's shop, and disappeared, reappearing inside the premises. 

It was 8 at night, and luckily Madam Malkins closed at 6. She usually had protections up, but he easily got past them – disabling any alarms as he appeared inside. He looked around for some clothes, sighing in relief as he found the perfect outfit, and mask, all together. He quickly changed, sending his old clothes back to his chambers and making sure the blood pact was still around his neck. Guiltily, he left a few galleons in place of the clothing and apparated back to Oslo.


	5. I don't think I'm dreaming...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Thank you for your kind comments, can honestly say that's why this fic will continue to be updated. Side note - google translate was used so any non-English words may or may not mean whats intended.

Gellert spent the better part of his day preparing the Fortress for the event. The main part of the event would be held in the ballroom, a massive, stunning double-height room with exposed stone walls and beautiful crystal chandeliers lighting up the grand space. One end of the hall was taken up by a large slightly raised stage, which was at the present time filled by a large enchanted string orchestra, the instruments playing music without their musician. Paintings of the Fortress owners lined the walls, most notable of which was King Haakon V, who hung above the grand fireplace at the opposite end of the hall. He surveyed the working acolytes haughtily as they prepared long wooden tables with buffet foods of all varieties. 

As night fell, the hall began to fill with people from across Europe and beyond. Gellert led people gradually from the beautiful waterside grounds into the heart of the Fortress. A glass of champagne in hand, he spoke endlessly about his cause to his closest allies and a select number of people who he had chosen to initiate. The main goal of the event was to solidify relations with important members of the wizarding community to allow for a further chance of success worldwide. 

“Gellert Grindelwald, what a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” a tall, thin, English man, Lord Elmore (he had done some reading up on all the guests invited), approached him near the gates.   
  
“Welcome to Akershus Fortress, and the pleasure is all mine Lord Elmore,” the man looked smug at the way Gellert addressed him, his sharp facial features cruelly capturing the light of the lamp by the pathway. He wore a suit of light grey, his mask an elegant, simplistic sapphire. 

“I am quite pleased that you have invited me to this function, I must say I am an avid follower of your cause,” he added with a cunning smile. Gellert fought the urge to roll his eyes, did the man not know any words other than ‘pleased’?

Gellert spotted Vinda not too far off and steered Elmore towards her smoothly. “May I introduce you to the lovely Vinda Rosier,” he could see a change in the man’s demeanour as he leant down to kiss the back of her hand. He had no doubt Vinda would have words with him later about leaving the pompous asshole with her, but Gellert internally shrugged. He was the leader of their cause after all. She’d follow him through fire, Lord Elmore would be water under the bridge when they ruled the world. 

“I do hope you have a pleasant evening, and your contribution to the Greater Good is well appreciated, Lord Elmore.” He quickly excused himself and made his way back into the main ballroom. 

Taking a short look around the room, he spotted a particularly inconspicuous man making rounds with the guests. Everyone else in the room was dressed to the nines, not to say he wasn’t, but Gellert noticed that he did not have the same  supercilious demeanour that the rest of the guests had. Darting his way through the crowd, Gellert approached the man, appreciating his rich mahogany red pinstripe suit that fit perfectly to his figure. His mask was a simplistic and elegant cream to match his tie, covering only his eyes, deep red decoration on the edges reminding Gellert of soft lace.    
  
“ _ Liebling _ , do take your glamours down, I would dearly like to see your face for how it is.” This caused a small quirk of his lip as Albus let his disguise down.

“I noticed your wards let me in.” Albus looked to be studying his outfit as well. Gellert wore a black three-piece suit, the lining a vibrant blue to match his cravat, pocket square and a Deathly Hallows motif was pinned to his lapel. His mask was made to capture the essence of the blue fire dragon from the graveyard in Paris, the mask not still, but blue flames swirling over his eyes. 

“I was never one to take no for an answer. You look ravishing, Albus.” 

“I won’t keep you from your guests.” 

Albus turned to leave, but Gellert stopped him.

“No, no, dance with me,” Gellert placed his flute of untouched champagne on a server’s tray. 

With a wave of his hand, the music was changing to a slow waltz, and he had taken Albus’ hand. 

**•••**

Albus wasn’t sure whether or not he was surprised that Gellert encouraged him to stay. However, as Gellert’s hand clasped his and brought him closer, Albus knew his presence thawed Gellert’s cold exterior. Gellert was someone else around him, for him, and it warmed his heart. The blond chuckled softly as they waltzed back and forth.

“Where did you learn to dance?” he whispered, looking down into Albus’ twinkling blue eyes.

“The waltz isn’t that hard to learn,” Albus mumbled before adding, “I like to be a man with a variety of knowledge, including dance.”

Gellert smirked, “Once a bookworm always a bookworm.”

“Indeed.”

The two danced in silence for a while, enjoying the lack of conversation as their legs moved in unison, staring into each other’s eyes. Albus could gaze into Gellert’s eyes forever, his reflection shimmered under the rich brown and fierce frosty blue. Taking a second to cast a look across the room, he was reminded of the event’s purpose.

“I think you’re been dancing with me long enough,” Albus grumbled, “don’t you have more important people to talk to?”

Gellert raised a brow, “Is that jealousy I’m sensing?”

Albus’ eyes widened at the accusation, heat rising to his cheeks as he quickly retorted. 

“What? No! Of course not,” he spluttered before hissing, “don’t flatter yourself.”

The blond laughed quietly, “Look at you all flustered.”

Albus growled but didn’t say anything in response. Gellert smiled and his head leaned down next to Albus’ ear before whispering in an alluringly low voice.

“The most important person to me in this room…” he paused before softening his voice further, “is you.”

Albus rolled his eyes but those words were too sweet and he couldn’t hide his smile.

“That charismatic charm of yours doing you any good?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” Gellert drawled, the corners of his lips quirked up to form a sarcastic smile.

“Sometimes I don’t know whether I’m reading into you or I’m stuck scraping the icy surface.”

The blond’s gaze darkened as he mumbled under his breath, “Maybe you just missed the chance to find out.”

“I didn’t quite catch that.” Albus furrowed his brow.

Gellert shook his head, plastering a smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it.”

"Have you thought more about the possibility of me joining you?" Albus asked softly, leading them over to a table on the side of the room. 

"I want you by my side, but alas, you make it  _ kompliziert _ . Your... conditions aren't applicable to all situations." Gellert sat down at the table across from Albus, reaching across to hold Albus' hand. Albus wondered how he could have possibly fallen in love with a murderer, but realised the answer was simple when he glanced at Gellerts face. Even though it was partially obscured by the mask, he still radiated confidence and beauty, in a way that demanded respect. There was just something about him that made anyone near him fall to their knees and devote their lives to him. Albus was sorely tempted to do exactly that, but resisted - he needed to stay strong and if he was going to go through with this, he needed the peace of mind that would come with Gellert following his demands. 

"Then I can't be by your side, as much as I want to. Some things just go too far, Gellert, and murder is one of them. How can I look into your eyes knowing that you've just killed someone?" Albus made no move to get away, watching intently for Gellerts reaction. 

" _ Liebling _ , you know I hold you dear to me. If it really matters that much to you, and is the only thing separating us from being together again, I can lessen the necessity, the  _ brauchen _ for it. But sometimes it is the only way." 

"Murder is never the only way. I don't care if it's for the greater good, it's not the answer. I need you to understand that. For me." 

They started into each other's eyes, the mismatching ones boring into his, as if seeking some sort of answer in them. 

"Stay a while. It is time for me to address the attendees. I'll talk more with you afterwards, I will think about what you have said, and I trust you will do the same." Pressing a kiss to Albus' hand, Gellert rose up, and left Albus to think about their conversation, and the possible repercussions of either one of them agreeing to the other.

As Gellert walked onto the stage, the instruments fell into a very soft lull. The attention of every guest in the room, including an already enraptured Albus, fell onto Gellert, and he raised his arms out by his sides. 

Not a drop of nerves lined his voice as he started speaking. “You are all, I am certain, believers of the truth.” Grindelwald paused for a moment to look over the crowd’s nodding faces. “I need not convince you of our common sight, our shared goals.” A murmur of assent rose through the crowd. Albus shifted forward in his seat, eager for his next words.    


“The old ways will serve us right no longer. We, the enlightened, seekers of the truth, have come together here today in desire of freedom. We are slaves to  _ den nomagiske _ ! Is it not fair that we crave manumission?” Albus met Gellert’s eye as thunderous applause broke out, and a small smirk enhanced Gellert’s features. The man must be part Veela, Albus thought to himself as he watched the crowd leaning forward on their toes to hear more. He knows he did it also.

“We have chosen a new path. A path where we are called monsters for our simple belief of the truth. But are they not the monsters for insisting that we be deprived of our rightful freedom?” Albus found himself clapping with the audience. Blue flame matching Gellert's mask flared up on either side of the stage, dazzling the eager listeners. Gellert had always had a sheer natural talent for commanding an audience.

“Your presence here serves as the highest form of donation to our cause. So I thank you, the magical community thanks you, for your contribution to the Greater Good.”   
  
“To the Greater Good!” Almost every person in the room, Albus definitely one of them, raised a glass in toast to the cause. 

Gellert bowed low, and the music kicked up again, the gathered crowd dispersing, and the centre of the room slowly filling back up with dancing couples. Albus’ eyes followed Gellert as he gracefully descended the stage and struck up a conversation with another wizard. A familiar feeling stirred in his mind and he sighed, instead trying to focus on the drink in his hand. He held the glass up in the light, observing its contents glisten as it swirled around. When the liquid stilled, he noticed his attention land on a certain man as he looked through the glass. The image was distorted but he knew who his attention was on – Gellert.

“Fuck,” Albus growled under his breath, “I’m hopeless.”

He placed the glass down, crossed his arms on the table and his eyes fixated on his man. Albus lost track of time as he watched Gellert drift from one wizard to another. Eventually Albus got sick of watching Gellert dance with everyone else, so he abandoned his table and made his way over to where Gellert was dancing with a rather pretty young witch. He tapped the witch on the shoulder. 

“May I cut in?”

Gellert smirked at him. The witch looked at Gellert for assurance, who nodded, and she curtseyed politely to Albus and wandered off, letting Albus resume her place. 

“Feeling a little jealous, were you?” Gellert murmured in his ear, as he placed a hand on his waist and took hold of Albus’ hand, moving in time with the music.

“Just feeling sorry for all the people who had to put up with your atrocious dancing.”

A low chuckle in his ear, “I dance quite wonderfully, if I dare say so myself. A lot better than you.”

This was however, unfortunately true but Albus deflected by purposely stepping on Gellert’s foot, and it didn’t matter if he had just proved Gellert right, and the man himself was too distracted by the sharp pain to say so.

“That was quite rude of you,” Gellert said, drawing them closer, leaving them only a few inches apart.

“Yet you continue to dance with me. It says something about my charming self.”

Another low chuckle in his ear. “Maybe I just can’t resist you.”

Albus’ breath hitched, “And what can’t you resist about me?”

“Everything. Except for your appalling choice to have a beard.”

He scoffed. “At least I don’t have a tiny moustache.”

“I thought we were being sweet, don’t go ruining it.”

“You ruined it first,” Albus retorted, but he fell silent, enjoying the close proximity to Gellert.

The music started to slow, and Albus put his head on Gellert’s shoulder. He took a deep, thoughtful inhale and found that Gellert still smelt exactly the same as he had decades ago. Soft dewy pine trees and the sunrise. 

“ _ Liebling _ , I have to dance with other guests.” Gellert sounded almost reluctant to leave. 

“One more dance?” Albus didn’t catch his words in time, they tumbled out of his mouth too fast. 

Gellert raised a brow, and Albus lifted his head to meet his eyes. “Alright.”

They spent the majority of the song in amicable silence, neither of them really wanting to touch on the subject that hung between them unspoken. Finally, Albus broke the silence, “I understand why you do what you do for the cause.” Although Albus was agreeing, he still sounded reserved. 

“It’s not like I enjoy killing our fellow wizards and witches.” Gellert reasoned. Albus was sure that was true. It would be ‘wasted potential’ to Grindelwald. He internally rolled his eyes. 

“I believe that.”

“Have you reconsidered your position?” Albus almost thought that Gellert looked... hopeful?

“We’ll see. We’ll see.”

“It used to be no.”

“What can I say, you’re a powerful speaker.” Albus shrugged and looked over Gellert’s shoulder at the enchanted orchestra. 

After quite some time, as the music changed into a new song, Gellert spoke up again, “This is where I leave you, for now, my dear.”

Albus nodded at him and walked away, grabbing a flute of champagne from a server walking passed and downed the entire thing in one gulp. He couldn’t really be seriously thinking about going along with Grindelwald’s plan for world domination? When he thought about it like that it seemed trivial, but he knew the real thing was certainly anything but. Albus did truly believe in the Greater Good, and maybe in time, Gellert would see that killing people was not the way. 

•••

Gellert parted from Albus with great hesitation. There was no-one in the room he wanted to dance with even as remotely as much as Albus, even if he wanted to step on his toes all night. He spotted the American across the room and made his way across to her. 

“Miss Goldstein, would you join me for a dance?” he extended a hand to her with a small bow. 

“Oh! Of course Mr Grindelwald sir,” she took his hand and followed him into the centre of the ballroom. 

“What’s got you all up in knots?” she inquired after just a moment's silence. 

Never one for silence was she? 

“Oh, your boy is here! How wonderful! Why are you dancing with me then, go find him!”

“I already had two dances with him, Miss Goldstein,” he twirled her around. 

She was very graceful, a naturally talented dancer, although not particularly practised. But she was better than Albus. He spotted the man across the room, in his perfect deep red suit, the lace-like mask causing his pretty lips to stand out. 

“Oh, okay. The one in the adorable cream and red you say? Hmm,” Gellert turned them around so she was looking at Albus, “Oh, honey he’s gorgeous!” 

Albus was sitting on a bench, drinking what looked to be firewhiskey from a small tumbler. To anyone else, he likely looked calm and collected, but Gellert could see his nervousness. 

“If you don’t mind me saying sir, you should probably go get him up. His head is spinning, ‘should he join you? Is there alcoholic pumpkin juice? Why does he insist on murder?’ He’s all over the place.”

“Thank you Miss Goldst-“

“Queenie.”

“-Queenie.” He nodded recognition at her request.

Gellert flashed her a rare genuine smile as she floated off into the arms of the next waiting gentleman (who looked very pleased with himself). Gellert had a Dumbledore to persuade.


End file.
